Kickin' it Dracula-style
It's 2:30 in the goddam morning and I'm reading about insomnia on WebMD. Not because I think it'll help, but because it's 2:30 in the morning, Emily's asleep, the cats are asleep, the whole city of Denver is asleep...except for me. I'm wide awake and bored as fuck. I don't expect that everyone's favorite internet-based substitute for actually going to a doctor will really cure me of my sleeplessness, I'm just curious about what it has to say on the subject.
It happens from time to time, once every couple of months or so. Sometimes Emily wakes up, shuffles sleepily out to the living room, where I sit so I can read or surf the internets without disturbing her, and asks what I'm doing. Some nights, she sleeps soundly, oblivious to my opposite state. I don't really know why it happens. I eat pretty well, I get a fair amount of exercise, I don't do any of the things you're not supposed to do. But now and then, I lay in bed for an hour or so after turning out the light and have to force myself even to close my eyes.
Tonight it's hot - no surprise there - which is certainly not helpful. My lower intestine is...well, let's just say it's in one of its less co-operative moods and leave it at that. The Intensely Bright Security Light From Hell on the neighbor's wall flickers on and off, seemingly at random, shining its forty-thousand lumens right into our bedroom window. I hate that fucking thing like Star Jones hates Baba Wawa. And, much like those catty daytime chat divas, I suspect that the feeling is mutual, and the Intensely Bright Security Light From Hell hates me right back. I'd love to be able to drop the blinds, but the bedroom gets precious little daylight, and dropping the blinds would keep it too dark when the alarm goes off at 0700, making it much harder for Emily to wake up. We keep a blanket draped over the window's security bars at night, which usually keeps the IBSLFH from being too much of a problem. It just isn't doing the trick for me tonight for whatever reason, and the light's random supposedly-motion-sensor-activated flickerings are driving me crazy. Still, annoying though it may be, the bloody thing does keep the Local Businessmen and the Loyal Clientelle from plying their trade in the narrow space between the houses.
I listen to some fairly quiet thumping from the apartment upstairs, which indicates that our neighbor the bartender has gotten home from work. This means that I'm awake and alert not only well past last call, but also well past the point of, "Okay, everyone, you don't have to go home but you can't stay here." I used to be awake at this point pretty frequently, but then, that was usually accompanied by having been at a bar all night and being at least slightly drunk. Not so tonight.
Denver will never steal from New York the title of "The City That Never Sleeps." Aside from the occasional bums/drunks/crackheads staggering noisily past the front window and the even more infrequent blare of a police siren, it's almost eerily quiet. At this hour, Denver is quiet enough that one can hear the horns of the diesel trains as they blow through the railroad crossings, way up on the outskirts of town.
By now it's been nearly seven hours since dinner, and I'm hungry. I'm tempted to make a PBJ or eat some fruit, but I worry that it'll just keep me awake even longer. My eyelids are finally starting to feel just a little droopy.
With a little luck, I'll be asleep by four o'clock.
Good night, and good luck.
